


Tumblr Ficlets and More

by Zip001



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Folklore, Gen, Modern AU, Showverse, Ten minute prompts, Three Sentence Memes, crackfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:05:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 9,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zip001/pseuds/Zip001
Summary: This is a collection of my Tumblr postings - many are 10 minute writing exercises involving a prompt from writingfromthesoul.net. Some are stories I start and do not currently plan to finish (unlike the ones I have already posted on ao3 which I will finish so help me...). Others are just one-shots from something I saw on my dash that inspire me. And two are from a three-sentence meme that I initially botched and then tried to fix from dreamwidth.Warning: hastily written and some of the chapters are in small caps (10 minutes is a short period of time!).





	1. Those Who Listen (Sansa)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mademoiselle_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoiselle_k/gifts), [BlueCichlid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCichlid/gifts), [Eilit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilit/gifts), [ThatCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCat/gifts), [LadyTP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTP/gifts), [SnowWhiteKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [writingfromthesoul.net](http://writingfromthesoul.net)

prompt: those who listen

‘those who listen’ her life coach told her to complete the sentence, that it was not merely enough to complete it in her mind, but that she had to put it in writing. and yet, it was so hard because having it written out meant that she had to face it, her stupid dehabilitating fears. she was not brave, not like her mother, not like her father, nor her siblings, including jon (take that mom!). fuck!!!! staring at the blank journal, she finally wrote 'those who listen gets fucked.’ everything she was told was a damn lie! everything what her mother told her, what sister mordane told her. there was no happy ending, no gallant knight, no loving golden prince, at least not for her.


	2. The Good Girl (Jon and Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was another of my attempts to write horror. It was Carrie-inspired.

Jon was seven when he realized that something was wrong. Lady Catelyn was crying, and Father was holding her, telling her that all would be well. A covered body was taken out of the room.

There were hushed whispers. Later that day, he heard the stable boy say that he heard from the cook who heard from Catelyn’s lady that the wet nurse was mean, that she deserved her fate. Everyone knew that Anna was short tempered - they saw her yell at and beat her own children, but no one would thought she would maltreat her Lady’s sweet natured girl. Yet there were many bruises on the babe’s body.

Sansa was a happy babe, always smiling and giggling, seemingly never cross even when he and Robb were too loud and awaken her from her naps, but that day, she was howling. The doors were slammed shut, and there were loud crashing sounds. He heard a lady scream and curse; and then it was eerily silent.

While Father tended to Lady Catelyn, Septa Mordane carried the still little babe and sang the Mother’s prayer while Old Nan was chanting something he could not understand as she touched the babe’s forehead which sported a large bump. Both he and Robb hid under Father’s bed and watched the older women sigh in relief when Sansa started to stir, coo and gurgle.

After that day, no one talked about that day or even mentioned Anna - not even her children, who were fostered by another family, would say her name. Robb said that there was a large gathering that night and Father and Old Nan told them all that they need to be silent, need to protect Sansa, as she would save them all. Years later he asked the stableboy about that night, Harrion just shook his head. Nothing happened. She was an innocent, a good girl. Some days he thought he must have imagined it as even Robb, who told him everything, would not speak of it.

There were no further major incidents even though he saw how quickly Father or Lady Catelyn would try to admonish young Arya who sometimes pulled her sister’s long hair in a pique or would make Rickon return Sansa’s dolls to her. He remembered Old Nan huff to Septa Mordane that they ought to not treat her differently - Sansa was a good girl and would never turn on her family. Septa Mordan agreed, saying that their girl has the patience and the virtue of the Maiden. Sansa seemed to glow whenever she was with those old women - when she sewed intricate embroidery for her septa or aptly listened to Old Nan’s stories.

It was unspoken that Sansa’s happiness was paramount as the cooks would bake lemon cakes until there were no more lemons. Father gifted Sansa dolls, seashells and other trinkets that she shared with her little friend Jeyne. Little Sansa was the first to choose her dire wolf, Lady, who was as sweet natured as she was. Then he thought it was natural as she was a perfect, well mannered princess, like the songs her Septa sang to her; and the rest were muddy boisterous gaggle, with Robb athough he was the oldest, was oft up to much mischief with his best friend Theon. Bran would always be climbing, and Rickon was always howling. And Arya was incorrigible, doing everything her brothers would do while loudly laughing.

When Jon remembered those happy childhood days, he could not think of any moment when Sansa was not smiling or giggling or singing or dancing. Butterflies seemed to flutter about her, and birds sang sweetly at night to lull her to sleep. He recalled Lady hopping with furry white rabbits as she and Jeyne would giggle and skipping after them. Even his Ghost, who would normally tear those rabbits apart and feast on them, would watch passively as they all bounded by them, the girls and Lady festooned with colorful silk ribbons.

It was what made her cold visage even more alarming.


	3. Frog Prince (Jon/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my attempt to write the five kisses trope (but I could only come up with four kisses *face palms*) while weaving in some folklore. 
> 
> The parentheses show their respective ages.

1\. Kiss? Yes. (Jon 5, Sansa week old)

He tippy-toed into her pretty pink room. The moon shone through the curtains, illuminating the sweet pretty baby. He climbed into the crib to get a better view of her. Robb was right - she looked exactly like the faery princess in Old Nan’s tales! Remembering the story that Old Nan told them about kissing faery princesses for wishes to be granted, he kissed her, wishing that he was the frog that turned into a prince.

2\. Kiss? No. (Sansa 5)

Sansa loved the Frog Prince and the Faerie Princess tales that Old Nan told, especially how the princess looked like her. She wondered who her favorite character, the frog prince, would be. She thought to practice kissing so when the time came for her prince to come, it would be perfect. She already kissed da and Robb, but when she approached Jon for kissing practice, Jon backed away, scowling.

3\. Kiss? No. (Sansa 15)

Sansa was in her francophile stage, complete with black beret, smoky eyes and red lipstick. When she greeted her friends and family, she would air kiss them, and for Rickon, she would kiss him like crazy, marking his face with her red lipstick, as they both laughed giddily. But when she spot Jon, she would walk away. When Jon asked Rickon what he wished when Sansa kissed him, Rickon replied that he wished for more sweet kisses from Sansa. D-oh!

4\. Kiss? Yes. (Jon 25)

He was a fool! He watched as Sansa danced with all those guys, all of them wanting to be the Frog Prince to her Faerie Princess. All of them blond, blue eyed and tall, or more accurately, taller than he. When he saw her last dance partner trying to forcibly steal a kiss from her, he intervened. When the clock struck midnight, she kissed him and whispered that she knew that he was her Frog all along.


	4. soul mates (stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my attempt at writing this trope with constraints of modern au and no “magic”

She was not that girl, you know, the one who has been around too many blocks, the bad girl Sister Mordane warned her to stay clear from. And he was not that man, not his brother, not a skirt chaser who preyed on young impressionable girls, marking on their proverbial bedpost the number of their many conquests.

And yet here they were - they were in bed (atop the bamboo bed sheets she brought because who knew if the hotel sheets had been cleaned - yuck!) in a cheap hotel room. She, his star student who did not need to fuck him to get the highest grade in the history class, and he, her well respected by-the-books (no extra credit, God forbid!) teacher and trusted counselor, with her hand petting the hair on his chest as he rumbled with pleasure, both sated from their strenuous love making as that was what it was. L-O-V-E, even though it was the forbidden kind.

It would be easy to say that it was pure lust, both sowing their wild oats and enjoying the other’s body. Yet what brought them together was a perfect understanding of the other. 

They were both sticklers for order - he was almost fanatical about the organization of his desk as she was about her leather school bag, how each compartment was perfectly organized. They shared a disgust for her wealthy classmates in their elite private school, the sense of entitlement, hubris (both loved to use that word), selfishness, and lack of drive and responsibility for their actions.

Together, they organized the school’s Green program, first by programming all school year printers to print double sided; recycling all paper, bottles, and cans; composting; and doing sustainable gardening so that the students had really “fresh” sweet fruit as possible snack items (she had to slice up the fruits for the students). They marched together, along with his younger activist daughter, to protest the poor treatment of the First Men. Both spoke and understood the importance of duty, of being a good citizen of the world, to use what one needs and not to waste; and neither shirked from doing their duty, rolling up their sleeves to truly help, versus talking the talk, they walked the walk.

It started with both saying at the same time in one of their after-school counseling sessions - what more can we do? They looked at each other and realized that their other “half” was standing in front of them, a person who truly gets them.


	5. Alayne Private Citizen (Ned and Jory)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was influenced by current events in this tale and also wanted to continue to write about father/daughter issues. 
> 
> Warning: this is political statement

Jory was always there for her but his lips were in a straight line, and his eyes were glaring at her. He did not smile or tease her about her clothes like he was wont to do - he did not understand why her pants were either too long or too short or why her alabaster white belly was oft exposed. And Alyn, his second who oft smiled sweetly at her, could not even look at her.

They would not let her leave the windowless room, not even when she asked to go to the restroom.

“No.”

That was all Jory would say, no, what he spat at her. This was a man she knew most of her life, the man who was unofficially her babysitter when she was a pre-teen and younger and now head of her security. He did not trust her anymore, and she could not blame him.

It was strange that while she did not regret protesting, the one thing she regretted was deceiving Jory and Alayn. She pressured Jeyne to wear a red wig to impersonate her as Mya drove from Randa’s home to the protest site, with her laying on the floor, covered by a plaid throw.  


She started crying, worried that Jory and Alayn would be fired because of her. At the sound of her first sniffle, Jory moved from the door and reached out to her but that was when Ned entered the room. Jory froze and stepped back as Ned glared at all of them. 

Ned nodded and both of her security detail moved to leave, with Jory lingering and looking worriedly at her. 

She was always his little angel.

Jory had “play tea” with her and her dolls and stuffed animals. He was there when she first learned to ride a bike, the one who cheered when she made her first successful turn without touching the ground with her foot and the one who picked her up when she fell doing the Statue of Liberty pose that Arya egged her to to do. Father was always so busy but Jory was always there. The more she thought about, every milestone, Jory was there (and recently Alayn too since he was hired five years ago). Jory blocked the church aisle, taking pictures of her at her First Communion, excitably telling her how angelic she looked and looking so proud, his chest puffed out, as parents came by afterwards and complimented her on her clear and loud diction for the first reading. Jory took her to get frozen yoghurt when she got her braces on, telling her that she still was pretty although not as pretty as Alayn. The more she thought the more she got angry.

Finally, Jory left after Ned grunted.

“Why?” Ned grounded out.

“Why what? Why did I embarrass you??? Why am I not that perfect porcelain doll, the one who is good, obedient and quiet?”

She could not believe that she was yelling at Father. 

“You have a fake ID - Alayne Stone. Or did you steal it? And you dyed your hair? You know damn well that is a crime, pretending to be someone that you are not. You lied! You know this is wrong! This is not what we taught you!” he shouted angrily.

“I used a fake ID so I could protest as a private citizen, not as a Stark, not as the privileged eldest daughter of the Vice President, because I want the focus to be on the issues, not on my name, my connection to you and this administration. You know the pipelines are wrong -”

“You do not understand the issues. You think everything is black and white. They just want more money - that is what this is about. They are using the press and public opinion to extort more money.”

He spoke to her in the way he always spoke to her. Dismissively as if she was some stupid vapid doll.

Sansa angrily waved her fingers at his face.

“You think everything is about money, that everyone could be bought. If there is a problem, throw money at it and it will go away. Like with Uncle Robert Appleseed and his mistresses -”

“Don’t talk about Robert, don’t try to change the subject!” 

Ned stepped towards her menacingly.

“Or what? Are you going to hit me like how Uncle Robert hits Aunt Cersei or how their issue Joffrey, the boy you pressured me to date, would have hit me if Jory was not there, and countless others who were even more unlucky than me? I know my worth - my silence cannot be bought!”

He stepped back from her and shouted, “Get out!”

She ran out but before she opened the door, she quietly said, “I used to look up to you. Mother told me that you were busy saving the world but now my eyes see clearly…”

Sansa rushed into Jory’s open arms. He was always there for her.

——

“The Children of the Forest do not believe in land ownership. They say the land owns all of us and we, the people, are merely stewards of the land… Under our laws, the land is theirs. The First Men took and then gave back under my great-great-great-great grandfather, Brandon the Builder, and then took again under my grandfather. And yet we use the derogatory words "Indian giver” when we are the ones at fault. We made laws allegedly protecting their historic sites - the least we could do, that was what my father said when he supported their passage. Then we willfully broke them or at best negligently ignored them. The court has spoken - no one is above the law, not even the government of our great country.“

"Thank you, Sansa, for your statement and congratulations on the legal victory!”

Sansa walked to the car with Jory and Alayn protectively flanking her with Jory stepping in front of her, completely shielding her with his body. Like before, she walked quickly, staying close to him, as Alayn closely tailed her, with his hand on his gun.


	6. Inhabit Your Skin (Petyr)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more ten minutes writing prompts

_Inhabit your own skin._

That was what her esteemed acting coach, Melisandre, told her she must do in order to become a true artist, rather than a starlet. Sansa was no longer in her early twenties - her days of relying in her cute appearance and youthful sexual appeal (that is, her perky boobs and rounded buns), what everyone thought was her star quality, are pretty much over. 

She repeated the mantra over and over again.

Each time, she became more confused. 

Who was she?

Was she the young ingenue, fresh from the wintry tundras of Winterfell (most could not locate on the map - was it next to Russia one of her young fans asked her)? The young girl who took ballet lessons at her local youth community center and the girl who sang in her church choir? The one who listened aptly to her mother and Sister Mordane? The one who never got into trouble? She barely remembered that girl.

Or was she Daddy’s little girl? The good girl who sat on her daddy’s lap? Who learned her lines with Daddy, even play acting with him the steamy scenes? Who shot up to stardom because of Daddy’s connections?


	7. Reunion (young Starklings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to imagine what would happen if the youngest Starklings all returned to Winterfell.

He saw everything and could do naught.

It was almost funny how despite everything, and he saw what they did to her, she seemed well, so much stronger than all of them combined - himself, Arya and Rickon. Of all of them, she surprisingly was the most gifted with the Old Magic, seeing even more than he, having more control over her warging than Arya and Rickon, both sometimes lost in their host bodies, the bodies of their dire wolves. Sansa was always in control.

It was only the slightest tremor in her life force that drew his attention late one night. As he normally does each night, he reached out to his siblings, making sure they are well. Sometimes, Arya would be trapped in her mind and he would needs to guide her back. And for Rickon, he needed to cut the connection with Shaggydog - otherwise, the poor boy would be on all fours again, pissing on the floor. Bran never worried about Sansa.

But when he traced her line to the source, Bran realized that it was a false indicator - she was not truly there. Panicked, he checked all four quadrants of Winterfell but was not able to detect her.


	8. Flying United (Joffrey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more writing re joys of air travel (not). i remember seeing pictures long ago when flying seemed so glamorous that people got dressed up to fly.

Sansa had never been so embarrassed in her life - even the “moments” with her little sister when they were younger paled to the absolute melt down that Joffrey had in front of the airline counter. 

First, he pushed and shoved his way to the front of the line (one elderly lady would have fallen but for the quick reflexes of a young man who sat closer to the counter) and then began yelling at the top of his lungs, demanding that he be placed on a Winterfell bound plane ASAP.

“Did you know who I am?!?!?!?! I am Joffrey Lannister. My father, my grandfather - they own all of you!!!!” he shrieked, his face becoming the most unpleasant mottled puce color.

She tried to sink down in her seat, hoping that somehow she could just disappear. Sansa missed her family and was looking forward to going to the luxury ski lodge in the nearby village. Yet she thought it was pointless to scream and yell because their flight was cancelled due to inclement weather. It was a disappointment but she was used to disappointment, having had so many in the last year. The biggest one was the one currently screaming like a spoiled brat who did not get his way.

Sansa just put her ear buds in to listen to her iPod to drown out his irritating screeching when she heard Joffrey calling for her.

“SANSAAAAA!”


	9. Stannissa (Rhaegar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> crackfic inspired by something I saw on Tumblr

Rhaegar sighed. 

The gods must hate him. Why, why Stannissa? Of all the ladies of all of Westeros, Seven Hells, of all of the world, does she have to be the One?

Stannissa seemed so unlike her brothers, bold Robert and charming Renley, but yet there were a boldness and a certain charm she had, more truthfully, a lack of charm as she clicked her tongue at his attempt to conjugate or worse, his attempt to woo his headstrong bride. Her pained looks drove him mad.

Her eyes seemed deceptively cold but he could see the fire in her.

He loved her. He hated her. Both.


	10. Orange Man (Joffrey, Stannis, Shireen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another attempt at writing something so horrific (which sorta came true - boo!!!!!)
> 
> Warning: political, reference to sexual assault

Everywhere she looked, she saw him. He was on the news, even her favorite tumblr blogs displayed his latest act of misogyny and bigotry before she blacklist his name. Everyone talked about him - at work, at the check out lines, on the street and now in her own home. She could not escape him. Her bogey man.

“Mommy, why did that orange man call the lady ‘piggy’? You don’t call people names, doesn’t he know that?”

“I do not know. And you are right - we should not make fun of people and call them hateful names. Perhaps his parents did not teach him the difference between good and bad.”

Although she was dismayed that even her young toddler knew about the foul mouthed presidential candidate, what made her the most dismayed was the knowledge that her actions (or more correctly, lack of actions) made it possible for that horrid man to run for the highest office in the nation. There were so much evidence (bite mark impressions, blood, semen, video footage) and a witness.

She wanted to say that she did not know. She was so young, scared and truly stupid. The university officials pressured her, strongly urging her to not press any charges. His family paid her vast sums of dollars - none which she has touched, not even for Evan’s college education. She could tell that her parents wanted it all to go away as quietly and as quickly as possible.

But even then, she thought of the other girls, the girls who would meet him in the future. The girls and women he now bragged of groping, grabbing their pussies, kissing them. But she told herself then that he would learn from this - that he would never do it again because it would besmirch the reputation of his famous family’s name. They all told her that, even her parents who were friends with his. She wanted to believe them even though in her heart, she knew he was just evil.

She signed a confidentiality clause, pretty much signed anything and everything for him to stay away from her and her eldest son. The last thing she wanted was her Evan to know that his biological father was the man currently running for president in the most vicious smear campaign. Evan was nothing like that monster - he was good, always helpful and kind, respectful to women and girls, the elderly, the poor, everyone that Joffrey treated like trash. 

Now she wanted to throw up. Gulping down big breaths of air, she felt the hysteria building and bile coming up. That man, then a college frat golden boy, still had power over her - he made her feel so ashamed, so petrified, so weak. He took her innocence and for awhile, her faith; and it took a very patient man to help her learn to forgive and love herself, to be able to truly trust and love someone else and to have a healthy and lasting relationship, a marriage of not only the mind but also the heart. 

By speaking out, telling her story, she could hurt Evan so badly. She lied to him about his father - she told him that he was dead (he was dead to her). She had to confess everything to Evan first, and only then would she even talk to her husband, who never knew the name of the animal who raped and beat her, and then Shireen. 

Afterwards they would probably need to talk with their family lawyer. Whatever they do, she decided that it would be a unanimous decision by the family. If she told her story to the news outlets, it would impact them all. Every part of their lives would be looked through a magnifying glass - Stannis’ prior marriage, her bouts with alcoholism and depression (including her stint in a rehab facility), her sex life, etc. She cringed, thinking about the tabloids having a field day with Evan’s paternity. She hoped that they would leave Shireen, who was so sweet, alone.

It would be painful but she vowed to fight this time.


	11. It Hurts (Sandor, Jeyne Poole)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More ten minute prompts

He did know whether to kiss her or to kill her! 

That Jeyne, knowing how he felt about their oblivious roommate, has gotten Sansa to do an impromptu swimsuit runway show for them both! It was hilarious seeing her giggling and stumbling down the runway, the short path from her bedroom to the middle of their living room as “I am too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts” blared through their speakers. And the adorable girl was truly so sexy it hurts.

Jeyne said that guys, straight guys she clarified, were either ass men or tits men, and in the very rare instances, both. As she walked toward them, with her full and slightly jiggling breasts barely contained in her tiny bikini tops, he thought he was a tits man, but when she turned, her perky tush made him rethink everything. 

_Is the earth round? Is global warming just a myth?_


	12. Whatever Happened To (Old Nan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more ten minute writing prompts with my fave character

Sometimes it is easy to let the fog roll over her. It was easy to forget. Snow covers all she told them, her little wolflings, their eyes were so bright, their sharp teeth flashing with grins. She did not want to think of the youngest boys, whether they be burnt or somewhere out there alone beyond the Wall even with their direwolves beside them, sweet summer children they were. Ahh, no… they were all gone. She could not look back for if she did, she would be lost, lost in despair for what was and what could have been. 

She stopped herself before she spiraled downward, reminding herself of the words of the first Stark - _I will carry out great vengeance on them and punish them in my wrath._ Then they will know that I am the Lord, when I take vengeance on them. Vengeance, she could taste it, it was what kept her alive - it was poor Rodrik told her, that she was much too salty to die, her bitterness and ire preserved her.

They, the Pretenders, would come undone - that she knew. They were no match for what will come. The Darkest and Longest Night. And before that one of her wolflings, the red one, will avenge them all.

Again, she started as she heard loud japes from those stupid Bolton bannermen.

“What happened to that red wolf bitch, the pretty one?”

“We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window.”

It has begun. She smiled and cackled like a crazed loon.


	13. In Spite of Everything (Sandor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More ten minute prompts

It seems ironic that after everything, in spite of everything, every loss, every heartbreak, she did not wish to undo the past, for it meant losing the present she had now. The present being the present of life, her babe, their babe in her arms, suckling on her teats. 

Of course, she had regrets. She wished that she, as a young girl, was less naive (or as her sister called her and perhaps rightfully stupid). She regretted her decision to come to the Queen, seemingly a betrayal to her family. She regretted her infatuation for someone who was truly horrid. But she knew that path of saying if only was a never-ending path of darkness, never helping but only hurting, for the past was the past he told her time and time again. He should know as there were many things he deeply regretted, including his actions towards her that dark night.

You need to carry on.

And she will, for him, for herself and for their babe.


	14. The Garment of Self (Cersei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more ten minute prompts

She remembered clearly her septa’s words. 

_Thou shalt put on thy garment of self, sewn to be virtuous and pure like the Maiden. Your courtesy, an armour; your honor, the shield; and your kindness, the sword. A true lady can best the strongest knight merely with a smile._

She shook her helplessly as those words rattled in her brain, the meaning of the words seemed contradictory. Stealing a quick glance down at her sister, she felt reassured that Arya was just as confounded, almost comically so. How could an unarmed lady dressed in delicate silks be able to not only defend herself against, much less defeat, a strong knight? 

Sansa then thought of the beautiful Queen and how she was dwarfed by Ser Gregor Clegane as the Queen herself towered over her youngest brother. And how those other knights, including the Queen’s own brother, bowed to her will. All it took was a meaningful glance, a knowing smile, or a smirk, and it was done. She remembered the Queen looking at her sharply after a silent exchange with her twin.

Perhaps there was some meaning to her septa’s words.


	15. trompe l'oeil (loras, stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to play in romcom playground involving mistaken identity (not sure of correct term).

Although he had met beautiful women before (Cersei, Robert’s wife whose beauty was like Grace Kelly minus the grace, and Margaery, Renley’s wife who was as beautiful as the roses her floral empire family was known for, but with wickedly sharp thorns), Stannis did not experience true beauty in a woman until he met her, the Red Beauty. 

If Sansa knew what he named her in his mind, she would burst out laughing. The last time they met she had paint on her clothes, her face, her glasses and even in her hair. She and his daughter were painting a swirling mural of dragons in his daughter’s bedroom; and somehow in the middle of the painting, paint apparently flew when Sansa lost grip of her small paint brush. Because it was such a funny moment that made them laugh so hard, they did not repaint it and left the boo boo (as Sansa called it) on the wall. Before she befriended Sansa, Shireen would have spent hours fixing the boo boo but now she loosened up and just had fun. And he knew that Sansa had a similar influence on him, helping him lose the jacket and tie and roll up his sleeves (he was flattered at her confession that she found his strong forearms quite appealing).

Stannis first met Sansa at her wedding to his brother’s lover. He mistakenly thought that with her looks and her easy charm, she was either a silly chit and/or a conniving gold digger. Loras, her husband, was known as a catch - handsome, rich and charming; and he thought her to be a cliche. When he told her that later, she laughed as she exclaimed that she was a different type of cliche, that she was actually a beard for Loras, who was seeing Renley, Stannis’ younger brother. His grandmother disapproved, and Loras feared the tabloids going public with his affair with his sister’s husband. So they got married. They were both gorgeous and from wealthy old money families. The press went wild, in a feeding frenzy, trying to snap up shots of the two on their honeymoon in Vietnam. 

Even then, at her grand wedding, though, Stannis knew that she was different from all the rest. Somehow she made his daughter Shireen feel at ease, part of the family. Before the wedding, she took each of the flowergirls out - the Tyrell girls to the mall where they giggled and shopped and Shireen and Meera, her younger brother’s girlfriend, to the art gallery where she worked. He remembered how excited Shireen was after that excursion, excitably telling him everything, how great Sansa and Meera were.

Shireen wanted to be an art curator like Sansa, and Sansa was gracious enough to let her shadow her once every week. They spoke every time he dropped Shireen up and every time he picked her up, each time they spoke more, not only of Shireen. 

He still did not know what got into him that day when Shireen got into the car and he closed the door. Stannis gripped Sansa’s arms and roughly whispered that she deserved better than a loveless marriage. He saw the two together, saw how Sansa cared for Loras, fixing his tie and helping him get through press conferences as his mind sometimes wandered with an easy quip, a gentle smile and a loving touch on his arm. While he looked longingly at Renley, she was hugging him from behind, resting her head on his back. It was just not right!


	16. hashtag (stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship goals.
> 
> Inspired by the greatest bro-mance ever - based on something I saw on my dash.

She would be the death of him, and he was not being dramatic. Him being the least dramatic of the Baratheon brothers. Hah!

First, she urged him to drink passionfruit margaritas that were surprisingly not sweet, just fruity and tropical (with none of simple syrup, just the tanginess of the passion fruit), but just coming down so smooth. They were “quite” (not in the British ironic meaning) addictive, and he confessed he did not know how many he drank. He only knew that he felt so warm and happy, and that his new wife felt so nice.

And that was how they ended to be one of the contestants in the Newlywed Game on the Ponant cruise ship that they hired for their private wedding party. (Later when he found out the drinks contained tequila, his nemesis, he knew that the drinks were one of the reasons and likely the main drivers on why he agreed to participate in such a silly game.) Stannis did not think that Ponant would have such lowly entertainment and was sure that this was something Sansa’s sister or her best friend Margaery planned. He turned to look at both, and they were smiling like cheshire cats. No, correction, they looked like those maneki-neko cat figurines with swinging arms you find in sushi bars that Sansa adored as they both waved to him, laughing merrily.

The other contestants that were roped in to this madness were Sansa’s cousin Jon (he was like a brother to her and especially to her siblings) and his new wife Ygritte and Sansa's older brother Robert with his new wife (he could not remember her name - Talisa or Jeyne?). Jon looked abashed and uncomfortable while Ygritte was laughing and at one point was upside down (!). Robert and his wife (even Sansa had troubles remembering her name but maybe she was just teasing her older brother) were too busy making out to even answer any questions (seven hells, he was sure that there would be a new Starkling or two within the year!). Only he and Sansa were truly answering the questions, and he could not help but feel his heart explode at her responses.

"When and where did you first kiss?"

Ygritte guffawed and revealed her response “the first day they met and baby arm (wink)” as Jon sank down in his seat as that response seemingly did not match his illegible response on his white erase board.

No response from Robb’s wife, and none for Robb.

And his Sansa flipped her board which clearly state “April 9, tidal basin” with pretty drawings of cherry blossoms. It matched his answer which also included the year (he decided to not indicate the exact time - that might be too much). That day was the day he realized that he would have to marry her, he was so proud of her that day, amazed by her sense of compassion, her powers of persuasion and her intelligence as she spoke about clean water in her testimony to Congress. But what truly moved him that day was the way she made sure to include his daughter, making her feel heard, in her testimony, explaining why this issue was important to her, why it was so important not only for people today but also for future generations.

There were silly and obscene questions which Ygritte and embarrassed Jon excelled while his blushing wife refrained from answering with a response of “a lady does not say” and he refused to answer. That made Theon crow that the reason why Ygritte was answering the questions was that she was no lady as Ygritte’s friend Val punched him in the arm.

The last question was the hashtag that best described their relationship. They had spent significant amount of time explaining hash tags to him (as he was not one to do social media) with Theon and then Arya and Shireen exasperatedly explain to him what it meant. He knew that he was so much older than his wife, and this part of the contest made him feel so ancient (it did not help that arse Theon laughingly called Sansa Lolita and calling him Humbert Humbert).

But all of that angst and guilt just melted away, along with their wedding party, the cruise ship, when they flipped their boards. It felt like there were only two of them.

Her board said “#eternal”, and his board stated “aren’t we lucky”.


	17. Do You Think We Can Be Happy? (Sandor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more ten minute prompts

“Do you think we can be happy?”

Shit! She was drunk. In some ways it was better when she hid herself, with her damnable courtesies, fake smiles and inane small talk. But in other ways, the ways that if he were honest with himself, truly matters, it was so much worst - for she was most achingly beautiful when she revealed herself. And he could not have either versions of her. 

_Look but do not touch._ He thought he knew better than to feel.

“Aye, Little Bird.”

“I thought you hated liars, Liar,” she mumbled.

“One hates what one knows best.”


	18. Uses for Oil (Loras/Sandor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pure crackfic. I think I saw a prompt that was simply not there. I was not that brave here - it was to be part of a saga involving the two unlikely lovers somehow saving both the Stark sisters and everyone yelling at each other because love quadrangles (Loras jealous of Sansa, Sansa crushing on Loras, Sandor clueless, and Arya crushing on Sandor and clings to him like a baby koala to her mum).

“You know there are other uses for that oil?” 

Hearing the soft dulcet voice, Sandor stilled from cleaning his sword and looked up at the smiling visage of the pretty rose knight. The man’s armor shone brightly, reflecting the light from the torches, but it was unmatched by the young man’s smile.

Sandor growled, “Bugger off, I am not your Renley.”

"Nay, you are not Renley, whether he be mine or naught. And he is not you, the man who bravely saved my life. I thank thee and my family and I will reward you for your brave deeds,” Loras quietly spoke.

His smile quickly faded as he spoke of Renley, remembering how he made no move while Sandor blocked what would have certainly been a death blow. The man in front of him was a merciless brutal killer, all knew that, but yet he showed more bravery and honor than all the knights in the tournament that day, more honor than he himself displayed in playing a mean trick on the Mountain, more than his lover who would have stood by and watched him die. He was a fool and was so lucky that day.

Sandor’s eyes glared at him as if expecting stupid japes or tricks, but then they softened and looked confused as he realized the rose knight’s words were truly spoken. The young man was grateful to him as he fucking should be. Sandor wanted to yell at him for his stupidity in playing his trick on the Mountain but could not bring himself to crush his spirit, this young man who seemed even more delicate than the chirping little bird. The pretty boy looked humbled - he learned his lesson.

“Go fuck yourself,” Sandor hissed dismissively.

“Aye, that is one use for the oil… but it is better if there were company.”

The young fool stepped closer, within his arm’s reach. It would be so easy to knock that rakish grin from his face, to even scar him with a flick of his sword.

Sandor stood up and lunged forward, expecting him to step back or flinch, but he stood still and almost leaned into him until their chest were touching, the rose knight’s shiny armor pressed against his rough tunic, his pretty face so close to his.

Sandor did not know why he was panting, like Stranger when he took his steed out hard, chasing someone down. He did not want a man, did not share those desires, but yet there was something in the bright eyes of the young man, the fullness of his lips, and the flush on his cheeks. The rose knight wanted him - he saw the same look of hunger in his king’s eyes when he located his next bed warmer in a crowd.

Sandor shook his head. The rose knight could not possibly want him, desire him, the scarred and ugly dog when he had a handsome stag by his side. It was a cruel jape - the boy was like his bitch of a conniving sister and grandmother. They wanted something from him, him being the shield of the yellow prick of a prince. He would not be tricked!

“You don’t know what you are asking, you do not know. You are playing with Fire - this is no game. Run to your grandmother, your mother, little boy,” he sneered.

Surprisingly, the young man merely lifted his chin up as he gazed into Sandor’s eyes, not flinching although Sandor’s scars were grotesquely stretched in a sneer. Instead, he gently touched his face.

“I want to be burned….”


	19. Why We Fight (Jon, Sandor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showverse 
> 
> I dunno what this is - I attempted to write a bit of showverse.
> 
> People may have seen sibling vibes but well frankly I saw something else (flowers in the attic).

“Little bird, what are you thinking?” he hoarsely asked. Even after all these years, he could not speak softly- nothing was soft in this man, all the softness seemed to be stripped away but for his feelings for her.

“Hmmmm.” Batting her long eyelashes coquettishly, she had hoped that he would be fooled.

Grimacing, he snorted, “You know you cannot play your games with me. You do not want me that way.”

Sansa pointed her chin up in defiance, but alas, it was sadly true. He knew her too well.

“Your father would be proud of you - you did more, so much more for the North than he could ever envision.”

How did he know? That day her father died, the girl she was died too. And she mourned her, her dreams, even her foolishness, her certainty that she was good and loved. She missed Father so much. There was so much regret, so much she wished she could have told him, so much she wished she could change. She was so angry then yet she truly did not truly know true anger or hatred. If only she could go back, if only she could turn around and see Father, Mother, Robb, Ayra, Bran, and Rickon all laughing and smiling, all hale and whole, undamaged.

She closed her eyes. Perhaps Sandor would leave. But of course he would not leave her side - he was her shield. And he was her friend. Everything she did since she came back, he had her back.

“You know you need to see him. He has been asking to see you - he is worried.”

Jon… She did not want to see him, not because of truly anything he did. He could not help that he reminded her of Father, not only his appearance, his mannerisms but also his actions. He was gentle, brave and strong. At first, her happiness and relief at being reunited so overwhelmed her but now she could no longer endure his presence, his earnestness, his goodness. 

He did not understand. Father did not understand the darkness in a man’s soul. She knew because her soul was just as dark as Petyr’s to his bitter surprise and dismay. The hounds were still hungry after she dealt with him. Vengeance was not enough - complete annihilation was barely acceptable. She wanted to hurt those who hurt her and her family, wanted to hear their cries and screams. It ashamed her - Sandor was wrong, Father would never understand. And she did not want Jon to know. Even though he was the embodiment of North, he was still such a sweet summer child in that he did not see the monster in her.

“You are hurting him.”

Opening her eyes, Sansa looked at Sandor who was looking back at her. His eyes were unwavering but she saw how hard he was holding onto the pommel of his sword. He wanted her happiness even at the expense of his own.

“Oh, Sandor.” She reached for his large hand which immediately enveloped hers. 

“Don’t, little bird. He could make you happy if you let him.”

Selfish and stupid and weak she heard her sister’s taunt. Arya was right - she should have never accepted his sword and his vows. She should have realized what they signified to a man like Sandor, and she did. Sansa just wanted a friend. So weak. Shaking her head, she could fix this.

“Stop. I chose this - I would always keep you safe. You would never be able to get rid of me even if you wanted to. And we know you don’t -”

Rock - Sandor was her rock. It was fine - it would be fine. He pulled her and held her so she could weep, for all she lost. Father. Mother. Oh Robb. Arya. Bran. Baby Rickon. She wept because what she did to Jon she could never forgive herself - he deserved so much more. That wildling girl. The dragon queen. Really anyone, even that silly Tormund who worshipped him and Brienne, trailing them both like a dog even moreso than the Hound trailing her.

“Do you know why we fight?” His voice a husky whisper by her eyes.

“Men fight all the fucking time.” She mumbled into chest.

“Language - a lady does not use such language. No, don’t deny it. You are more a lady than any of the cunts in King’s Landing.” He chuckled.

She had to smile that he was able to admonish her for using profane language while cursing himself. But of course, he would not see the hypocrisy as he would say that he was no pretty prissy lady. If he were a lady, she would have to agree that he would not be a particularly handsome one. 

“So why do they fight?” he asked again.

“They fight for Jon.”

“And why does Jon fight?”

“He fought for Father, to save Rickon, to avenge our family, to restore the North.”

“Look at me. You know. Tell me the real reason."

She could never lie to Sandor even after all those lessons from Petyr, after all the lies she had told to countless others, to Jon and to even herself.

She whispered, “He thought he was fighting for me. It does not matter - doesn’t matter anymore.”

Sandor hugged her hard and loudly rasped that it did. 

“Sansa?” Jon looked surprised, seeing them in an embrace. 

Immediately she stepped back and curtseyed while still holding Sandor’s arm. She needed his strength - she would not let him leave.

“Your grace,” she murmured.

“Sansa, no titles.” Jon waved his hand to dismiss Sandor.

“Nay, I feel safer when Sandor is by my side. There is naught I hide from him.”

Sandor stepped back but still close, two arm’s length distance away. 

Jon looked affronted. He stepped closer to her.

“But yet you would hide from me,” he angrily whispered. “Is he your lover?”

In that moment, he was just like any other man, like Joffrey whenever anyone wanted his toy, like Petyr even with the man he wanted her to entice, and like even poor Robyn who did not want his Alayne paying attention to anyone else. 

Standing tall, she stared at him until he dropped his eyes, ashamed at his jealousy.

“Please forgive me. I did not mean to-”

“It is the only true words you said. All those other words, just lies,” she hissed. “The decision we made, no one but us knows yet. It can be undone… We need her dragons.”


	20. Jagged Edge (Stannis)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired after listening to the Wall by Pink Floyd during a thunder storm.

When he saw her, standing so tall as she surveyed the kingdom, their Kingdom, he lost his breath. Sometimes he forgot just how beautiful she was, his Queen. Perhaps that was by design as he saw her subtle ways of hiding herself, dulling her light, to make herself blend in with the rest, so that she was only a dull copper pebble amidst the dark gravel, jagged rocks, and rubble. But one only had to open one’s eyes to see that the pebble was perfect, perfectly round and smooth. He was now becoming a sentimental fool trying to spout poetry about his love - he could imagine herself smiling to hear him liken her to a perfectly round pebble.

Stannis stood besides her, waiting patiently for her to acknowledge him. Her body stiffen when he came near, but she neither turned her head or spoke to him.

He looked at the Kingdom, much heartened by the progress of the rebuilding, the hustle and bustle of the workers, the orderly disorder. They did this. He found himself smiling next to his silent Queen.

Finally, the silence was unbearable. He finally looked at her face. She did not see what he saw - her eyes were filled with sadness and regret. And he reached for her, and she flinched away, too close to the edge. He pulled her away, holding her tightly against his body. She did not hug him, but she did not resist.

“My lady, what ails you?” he asked. Even last night she seemed a bit distant. He tried to think of the cause. It was not the anniversary of the death of one of her loved ones.

“Why? Why is she coming here?”

Ah, it was the Red Lady Melisandre. Davos advised him to not to send for her. But there was always so much bitterness between the two. But this, he did not expect. His Queen was by far the more practical of the two he trusted the most, willing to keep foul Petyr Baelish nearby to ensure that the Iron Bank would be paid. She endured his attentions but she assured Stannis not his touch - if that foul man touched even a strand of her hair, that would be the last thing his little finger would touch. 

“I have need of her-” 

And he did, there was still much to do, still much unrest, but before he could further explain, his normally courteous Queen cut him off with an abrupt “I see.” 

She withdrew from his embrace, curtseyed and began to walk quickly away. He stared after her. As the distance between them grew, he felt dread that he truly lost her.

But for one other whose perceptiveness he had called upon many times before, no one saw that things have changed between his Queen and himself. Partly that had to do with his dislike of public displays of affection even though he would slightly lean into her light and affectionate touches to his arm. She still smiled - the brilliance of her smile oft bewitched her audience as it did before, but to him, they seemed forced, never reaching her eyes. Always courteous and always kind - that never changed. But before he believed that there was more, more for him, that she truly cared for him. And now it seemed that it all changed. It was only duty that kept her by his side. And it was duty that she unlocked her door and let him lay with her. 

Through Davos, he heard that she did not want the Red Lady near her, and in fact, petitioned her leave to visit her ailing cousin, young Lord Robert Arryn, before Lady Melisandre was to arrive. Before he would have thought nothing of her request and would grant it without hesitation - but now, he felt that he would never see her again if he granted her wish.

“My lady, although I am sympathetic to you wanting to attend to your ill cousin, I will not grant your request.”

“Your grace, I see.”

But before she could take her leave, he stopped her and held her arm. His eyes narrowed when he saw her tiny hand protectively touch her stomach. She was with child, their child, yet he did not know. She did not tell him. What other secrets is she keeping from him? 

Stannis wheeled around and stared at Davos, who immediately looked down. He knew! 

“When were you going to tell me? Never? Is the babe even mine?” he barked as she flinched at his accusatory words.


	21. Eggs on My Face (Sansa and Rickon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Face palms - I screwed up majorly! The prompt was just two words and I saw only eggs (perhaps the easter all-day feast put me into a stupor). 
> 
> Prompt from 
> 
> [http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/947.html ](http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/947.html)
> 
> Let us talk about eggs.
> 
> All right, there's no Easter in Westeros. so they don't have Easter Eggs. But. People there have got a very particular attitude towards DRAGON EGGS.
> 
> So here we go. 
> 
> Your prompt is to write something ASoIaF/GoT-related about dragon eggs.
> 
> Please pay attention to the rules: a maximum of three sentences. Please provide some introductory information (place, characters, ships) and - if necessary - trigger warnings (violence, gore, sexual content).

Where: Winterfell  
When: around 300 AC

When she heard Rickon angrily shouting and Shaggydog growling, she raced towards the commotion and saw the remains of his breakfast on the floor, the cooked eggs strewn everywhere, even in his unruly curls.

"Real men don't eat cooked food - they eat their food raw, eat their eggs raw," he yelled and when he saw her, his voice cracking, "and they come back home."

Sansa nodded and the servants rushed to get the young lord his breakfast.


	22. Dragon Eggs - Take 2 (Rickon and Bran)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried again the three sentence meme for dragon eggs with Rickon (but the tone of this attempt was a bit off and almost slapstick - somehow envisioning next scene with rickon literally sitting on the egg and waiting for it to hatch (lol)).
> 
> [http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/947.html ](http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/947.html)

take 2 (dragon eggs not just eggs - lol)

Setting: Hodor (just chilling), Rickon, and Bran (in a trance) in cave while the Reeds are foraging elsewhere.

Timing: after the sack of Winterfell

Shaking his brother awake with one hand and cradling a giant egg with his other arm, Rickon crows, "Look what I found!!!!"

Bran blinks his eyes and smiles as he recognizes the egg in his visions.

He whispers, "So it begins."


	23. Fire and Blood (Stannissa and Rhaegar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three sentence meme - sigils/coats of arms/heraldic house animals and the mottoes of the noble houses.
> 
>  
> 
> [http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/2516.html ](http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/2516.htm)

 

Pairing: Stannissa (fem Stannis) Baratheon and Rhaegar Targaryen

Setting: Wedding night bedding (NSFW)

As he perched above his fierce and clever Stag Queen, his Visenya and his Rhaenys combined, he looked into her unblinking saphire eyes and knew that his late father was a fool to underestimate her until it was too late for him.

Her eyes only widened slightly as he slowly sheathed himself in her, and she furiously urged him on, hissing, "Fire and blood."

His body enflamed with desire, his blood boiling, the Dragon King chanted, "My Queen," with each thrust that was met enthusiastically by hers.


	24. Ours Is the Fury (Stannissa and Rhaegar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three sentence meme - sigils/coats of arms/heraldic house animals and the mottoes of the noble houses.
> 
>  
> 
> [http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/2516.html ](http://asoiafgot-gallery-writing.dreamwidth.org/2516.htm)

Pairing: Stannissa (fem Stannis) and Rhaegar Targaryen

Setting: After the Mad King foolishly tried to prove he had blood of the dragon 

Warning: Implied execution by fire

Her tiny fists clenched, she remembered when Lord Mace Tyrell and his bannermen laughingly feasted while she, her poor little brother and their bannermen starved and the utter defeat and humiliation she felt as she bent her knee and curtseyed to that fat buffoon and his mad king.

With her betrothed, the Dragon Prince, looking for her approval before the pyres were lit, she nodded as she thought 'ours is the fury.'

She did not turn away when Lord Mace Tyrell and his eldest screamed, begging for mercy - none was given to her brothers.


	25. surprise gift (Boromir/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boromir (LoTR) is pleasantly surprised by his elven lady wife Sansa (sister/cousin of Lady Galadriel) on his namesday.
> 
> This is written as a gift to @yourtommyginger, a wonderful muse! She is so funny, imaginative and brilliant! I hope she has a wonderful birthday!

His lady wife was smiling so brightly and was so excited about her surprise for his fiftieth namesday that he had to smile although there was a small part of him (nay, a rather large part of him proportionately speaking) that was a tad disappointed.

It was that in ev'ry prior namesday of his she shared with him some new intimacies, that she gleaned from the wondrous gift that her sister cousin, Lady Galadriel, gave to her in the form of an illustrated book. Boromir knew that he should not be reading ahead and he was not one who was wont to do reading (that was more his brother), but he did peek in that book (and found his peaks many times visualizing his wife practicing those tantalizing positions with him). 

“Daddy, I knew how much you missed your brother. You talk of him all the time, not only to me, but to Eomer, sweet Sam -” Sansa babbled with excitement in her eyes as she finally truly surprised him with the greatest gift of all!

Boromir muffled her words with deep passionate kisses and with his hands groping her round bottom as his blushing brother Faramir quickly looked away and Faramir’s fierce lady wife Lady Eowyn laughed at their display. Although it had been ten years since Boromir and Sansa first met, their passion and love had not diminished but seemed to only grow. It was quite hard for Boromir to keep his hands off of his sweet and succulent and insatiable wife.

“My lady love, you are a gift for inviting my brother and his wife to our private meal,” he whispered to his thoughtful wife. He hoped that he was able to keep the slight disappointment from his voice. 

“Daddy, they are also to be our dessert. Page 333,” she whispered with a twinkle in her eyes. Boromir looked at both his brother and Lady Eowyn, who were wearing less clothes than usual, and looked back at his beaming wife.

*bow chicka wowow and fade away*


	26. Forever (Sandor/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Sansan one-shot was inspired by the lovers of Valdaro.

_Forever_

"Do you think they knew that they will be together forever?" she whispered as she held his hand, her fingers wrapped around his index finger and thumb.

Sandor was uncomfortable being wedged in between other lovers who either were cooing and embracing each other as they stared at the embracing skeletons or were staring at him in disgust. He wanted to leave as he heard the whispers about them, "la bella e le bestia" they were called. There were faint bruises on her bare legs and arms because they both did kickboxing for fun and his little bird bruised easily, but he could tell that many thought he hurt her. He should be used to this as he dealt with the stares and japes all of his life but he did not want any of that bullshit be in contact with his little bird. Their words and stares hurt her he knew, but she pretended to be oblivious, trying to not let them see how those words upset her.

"Ugh," he grunted, hoping that they would leave soon but she refused to leave, her fingers tethering him with her.

"They may be the inspiration for Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers. There must have been stories about them, stories that were retold so many times, with details that changed, names changed, but the essence of the tale remains. Theirs was a true love, that never ended, not even death could part them."

Sandor watched her flushed face as she stared at the two with tears in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking but could not say anything.

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Sansa tried to smile brightly and began to pull away from him and the crowd. She pretended that naught was wrong. And if Sandor did not know her, did not know every freckled inch of her body, every breath she takes, from her gasp of surprise, her breathy giggles, her loud moans, her shuddering gasps, he would be fooled by her acts of nonchalance. He disappointed her, but he knew he would make it up to her. He just needed to get her alone, so she could be herself and he could be the man she deserved.

Instead of heading to their hotel room, Sansa walked quickly into a crowded market. She knew he hated crowds.

"Wait, Sansa!"

Hearing something in his voice that made her look back, Sansa saw him on his knees with a tiny black velvet box so puny in his large hand. With a speed that surprised both of them, she launched herself onto him, kissing him, laughing, crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source of pic is https://bookofresearch.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/lovers-of-valdaro.jpg.


	27. blink (arya & sansa - sisters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this how i imagine the stark sisters reunion to be.
> 
> inspired by this beautiful pic.
> 
>  

She played the scene in her mind so many times, words she wished she had said. _I love you, I love you, I always love you. I’m sorry, so sorry. I was wrong._ She would hold her and never let her go.

But when Sansa saw her, words escaped her. She could barely breathe. Her little sister, the scamp that would shriek with laughter as she was chased by her brothers, was as hard and as sharp as the valyrian sword that Lady Brienne brought to Jon. Her eyes were white.

_Arya._

She blinked.


	28. Benjen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made my first edit (very tiny and not well received) and wrote this tiny fic for Stark Week. My subject matter is Benjen and his thoughts of the Night's Watch. This moment is after his talk with Jon Snow. My headcanon for Benjen was that he was the wiliest of the Stark brothers (and also that he had an affair with Catelyn - lol).
> 
>  
> 
> [my tiny edit in all of its glory (not)](https://zip00198704.tumblr.com/post/161809428604/they-sneer-at-us-calling-us-crows-black-beggars)

 

_They sneer at us, calling us crows, black beggars, liars, murderers, rapists, or worst, craven men who use boys to satisfy their dark desires. ‘Tis true that none atop the wall have souls pure white as new snow, moreso dark grey like black ice on coldest parts of the Wall. No clean hands here. You learn quick better to stab a man in the back than die an honorable man. I lied to the boy - whilst we are bound by duty to protect, honor is not our mistress. We do what we must._

 


End file.
